


Of assassins and chocolate chip cookies

by StarrySkies282



Series: Heaven Help a Fool Who Falls in Love [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cookies, F/F, Fluff, Natasha Romanov Cooks, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Stress Baking, Worried Natasha Romanov, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 13:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19870084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarrySkies282/pseuds/StarrySkies282
Summary: the one where Natasha is worried about Wanda and bakes cookies





	Of assassins and chocolate chip cookies

**Author's Note:**

> The second part to this series! I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to update this fast, I’m usually so slow. Enjoy! X

The Avengers compound is quiet as afternoon sunlight streams in through the kitchen windows.

Steve and Sam and Wanda are out on a mission, Tony is in his lab, and Clint is probably asleep somewhere.

That leaves Natasha Romanoff, spy and assassin, standing over a large mixing bowl. A bag of flour lies in one hand, measuring cups in the other. Her hair is tied back in a loose bun, a light dusting of flour contrasting against the fiery red.

She consults the recipe lying on the counter— a cutting from a magazine that she’s kept tucked away for a while now, finally deciding to attempt it.

It’s somewhat calming, she acknowledges, sifting the flour. It helps the anxiety she’s feeling, stopping it from boiling over.

It’s a habit she’d developed over the years, since Clint bought her back to his farm. It helped on the days she wasn’t sure who she was anymore, helped her when she remembered the faceless victims she had left behind.

Laura had helped her first, starting her off on a simple sponge cake. Soon her repertoire had expanded, and she was capable of even the most complicated of pastries.

Right now, it gave her something to focus on while Wanda was away.

_Wanda will be back today_ , she tells herself, _and when she comes back, she’ll have cookies._

Natasha knows it’s silly, that there is no logic to her thought process, but a small part of her is convinced that if she does this, it will, in some way, guarantee Wanda’s safe return.

She absently scratches her nose, succeeding in coating it in flour.

“...add to the butter and sugar,” she reads, humming to herself.

_If only Madame B could see me now_ , thinks Natasha dryly, adding chocolate chips to her mixture.

She follows the recipe, kneading the dough into a ball, trying to push the worry from her mind. She wills the clock to tick faster, hoping that Wanda will walk in any minute. Hoping she’s safe.

Natasha is precise, making neat balls of dough, placing them on the greased tray she had already prepared.

It helps to pass the time.

“Hey,” says a soft voice from behind Natasha, surprising her. There are not many people who can surprise the Black Widow.

“Hey yourself,” returns Natasha, so relieved to see Wanda standing before her that the very tension melts from her bones.

She runs her hands through the tangles of Wanda’s hair, keeping her close, no matter how much she smelt of smoke and gunpowder.

She’s covered in dust. _Probably from the rubble of whatever building Steve blew up_ , thinks Natasha. But, she’s here, all in one piece, and Natasha’s heart— if it is at all there— sings.

“Are those cookies?” Wanda asks, reaching out towards the tray of cookie dough.

“They will be if I bake them,” says Natasha, batting Wanda’s hand away playfully.

Wanda pouts, feigning offence.

“Why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up, and by then these should be done,” Natasha tells her, brushing dust from her hair and gently kissing her on the forehead.

As much as she wants to keep Wanda by her side, where she knows she’ll be safe, Natasha watches her go, a faraway smile etched on her face.

Turning back to her tray, she puts the first batch into the already hot oven and moves to clean up. That’s the one thing she hates about cooking, but she does it nonetheless.

She just about has the cookies out of the oven when she hears bare feet padding across the floor, alerting her to Wanda’s presence.

Her hair is still slightly wet from her shower, and as Natasha looks up, she can’t help but think she’s the most beautiful creature in the entire world.

“Better?”

“Much,” comes Wanda’s reply as she moves to the other side of the kitchen island so she’s pressed against Natasha’s side.

A hand reaches out, grabbing a cookie straight from the cooling rack.

It is almost immediately withdrawn, cookie falling back onto the tray as Wanda shakes her fingers trying to get rid of the burning sensation.

“Hot!” She exclaims.

“Patience, krasotka,” croons Natasha into Wanda’s ear.

And then she’s kissing her against the counter, revelling in the feeling of Wanda once again, the smell of her perfume, the curve of her lips.

“I could get use to this... cookies and you after a mission,” says Wanda lazily when they break apart, still holding onto each other.

“I bet you could.”

At that exact moment, Sam decides to enter the kitchen, and the two spring apart just in time.

“Are those cookies?” Sam asks amused.

Natasha grins like the Cheshire Cat, green eyes shining as she transfers the cookies to a plate.

“You made these?” Again, she smiles.

“Are they... you know...safe?” He queries, apprehensively.

“Why would I make Wanda poison cookies?”

“So you _do_ make poison cookies?”

Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Sam, if you don’t want any get out.”

He doesn’t leave and Natasha looks on smugly. No one can resist her cooking.

“ _I_ want welcome back cookies. Why does Wanda get welcome back cookies?” Whines Sam.

“Because she’s the least annoying person on this team,” counters Natasha.

Wanda isn’t sure whether to be honoured or offended, but she takes her opportunity and swipes a cookie from the plate in Natasha’s hands, biting into it carefully.

Still warm, with the chocolate slightly melted, a satisfied sigh escapes Wanda and she holds Natasha’s hand behind the counter, tracing small circles with her index finger.

“Divine,” breathes Wanda, as Sam steals two and leaves, earning him a disapproving look from Natasha.

In those precious moments, Wanda forgets her weariness as she gazes into Natasha’s eyes, who, Wanda thinks, for all her reputation is as being one of the worlds most feared and skilled assassins, when she’s standing in the kitchen with flour dusting her nose and hair, holding a plate of cookies as she watches Wanda’s expression intently, must be the softest person alive.

**Author's Note:**

> So... I hope you’re all enjoying this so far. I’ve got a plan for at least 10 parts, but it might take a while as I have so much work to do  
> Thanks for reading x


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